


Choose Your Own UsUk/FrUk Adventure!!

by writingandchocolatemilk



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: A Large Parody, F/M, JUST, Parody
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-18
Updated: 2015-01-18
Packaged: 2018-03-08 01:19:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3190463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingandchocolatemilk/pseuds/writingandchocolatemilk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>England sighed, resting his head in his hand and looking out the window. He probably should be doing work. In fact, he was sure his Boss (if he ever appears) would be very upset with him for daydreaming instead of working.</p>
<p>England couldn’t help it! A world meeting was tomorrow, and all England could think about was… <em>Him</em>.</p>
<p>England is in love. Speaking of which, most of the nations seem to be pairing up. But when did England start enjoying form fitting clothing? And when did Japan start adding "-san" to the end of everyone's name?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Choose Your Own UsUk/FrUk Adventure!!

**Author's Note:**

> *Looks into the camera*

England sighed, resting his head in his hand and looking out the window. He probably should be doing work. In fact, he was sure his Boss (if he ever appears) would be very upset with him for daydreaming instead of working.

England couldn’t help it! A world meeting was tomorrow, and all England could think about was… _Him_.

"No!" England cried. "I will not think about that wanker!" He took a sip from his teacup, triyng to focus back on his work.

His mind kept wandering back. Last meeting, it was all England could do to keep his eyes off of France/America. The blond hair that fell into his crystal sky blue eyes. The way Framerica teased him, eyes sparkling. The way he said England’s name…

England felt himself blushing. “D-damn it,” he muttered, taking a sip from his cold tea. “Stupid bloody git.”

…

The meeting was a mess, as usual. England wasn’t even sure what they were meeting _about_. Germany was yelling, trying to shake Italy—the north one, because Romano was too busy screaming at Spain—off his arm as he commanded for people to sit.

England sighed, looking around. Everyone slowly found their seat, sitting down next to each other randomly and without order. In this case, it was (OTP 1, OTP 2, and OTP 3).

"Hello, mon amour/Iggy,” Framerica greeted as he sat down next to England.

England blushed. “Don’t call me th-that, you git!”

Framerica laughed, tossing his hair. “Don’t be like that! I’m only teasing.”

England grumbled, turning his burning cheeks away from the nation.

Germany stood at the head of the table, though England saw him glance down at Veneziano. Veneziano and England were dressed similarly, oddly enough. Both had tight pants that showed off their legs, and a tight, cute top that showed off their curves. Looking around, England shared this outfit with Romano, China, and Kiku.

Germany was wearing a tight tank top and low riding jeans that showed off his hips. Framerica, Russia, Greece, and Spain also shared this look.

Germany banged his fist on the table. “Alright, everyone. Ve have to figure out this new treaty to prevent further fighting among the Allies and Axis!!! Ve vill split into groups to discuss ze conditions of ze treaty!! Ze group are… Me, Veneziano, China, Russia, Spain, and Romano. Kiku vill be wis Greece, England, and Framerica. Ve vill meet back here in three hours. Understood?!”

England groaned. Of course he’d be stuck with _Framerica_. That bloody wanker couldn’t focus unless you dangled a cheeseburger/potential rape victim in front of him.

Framerica let out his signature laugh, throwing an arm around England’s shoulder. “Ah, dude/mon amour, this is gonna be great/splendid! Then, afterwards, maybe we could go grab a bite to eat after words, (non)?”

England felt his skin tingle where Framerica’s arm touched him. He blushed, not able to make eye contact with Framerica. “Like I’d ever want to go out to eat with _you_ , you bloody sod.”

Japan stood and walked over to England and Framerica, dragging the sleeping Greece behind him. “Herro,” Japan greeted robotically, finally managing to haul Greece over to the pair. His face was perfectly smooth, like it was made out of marble. When he spoke, it looked like his skin would crack. “Konichiwa, Framerica-san, Engrand-san. Perhaps we should go find another room, where re could go over the treaty in peace.”

Framerica nodded, standing. England saw a sliver of skin as Framerica stood, and felt his face warm up. He stood as well, following after Japan, who was still dragging Greece after him.

After a few minutes of waiting for Japan to catch up, the Asian country stopped, panting. “Engrand-san, could I have your assistance in carrying Greece-san?”

England paused and looked back. “Sure, Japan.” He walked over, picking up Greece’s feet.

Framerica took a step toward the trio. “Want some help?”

Japan shook his head. “No, it’s alright, Framerica-san. Engrand-san and I are abre to do this.” He lifted Greece’s head a little higher; if his face wasn’t so stoic, he might have been frowning with strain. “Prease, go ahead.”

Framerica frowned. “I don’t know, you guys are pretty dainty/shapely, maybe I should—”

"No!" Japan cut in sharply. He cleared his throat. "No, thank you, Framerica."

Japan turned to England and widened his eyes. There was something about Japan’s body movements, how he shook his head ever so slightly. The island nation’s grip on Greece tightened as he pleaded silently with England.

"No, Framerica, it’s alright," England said, smiling slightly. "We’re okay, don’t worry. Run along now, you bloody git." He forced a frown on his face. "And I’m perfectly able to take care of myself." England felt himself blushing.

Framerica grinned. “Well, alright then.” He walked off. England’s eyes were glued to the retreating nation’s rear end. God, whoever gave him the ability to swing his hips like that should be given a very large medal. Who—

Japan dropped Greece. The sleeping nation fell like a stone. England stared at Greece, who mumbled something in his sleep but remained slumbering. England turned his gaze to Japan, opening his mouth but not finding the words.

Japan blinked. “He is fine. I have tried everything to wake him up—he just mumbles my name and rolls over.”

"Your name… Are you two…?"

Japan’s mouth twitched down in a tiny frown. “ _No_ ,” he snapped, sounding savage. “I am the great nation of Japan. I represent one hundred twenty-six million people, and am one of the most developed countries in the world. I have been alive for _centuries_. I do not have time for relationships.” He stood straighter, eyes shining. “England, something is wrong.”

England dropped Greece’s feet, putting his hands on his hips. “What do you mean something is wrong, you git? The only thing wrong is that we’re not at that bloody meeting to fix the Alli—”

"War World Two is over, England," Japan interrupted, stepping around Greece and walking toward England. "Who is your current leader?"

England furrowed his eyebrows. Two names kept jumping to mind, and one of them wasn’t Winston Churchill. He shook his head; he had been scatter-brained since Framerica caught his attention.

"What has that— We should get back to Framerica."

Japan’s eyes widened, and he took another step forward. “So that is who you’re stuck with?”

"Stuck with? What in good God’s name are you talking abou—"

Japan shut his his eyes, clenching his fists. “I have been blushing like a school girl and thinking of Greece constantly. I cannot focus on my work, and I…” Japan hid his face in his hands. “I cannot express myself.” He looked up at England. “I can’t smile anymore, England…” He glared down at Greece. “Unless I think of _him_.”

England swallowed. Japan was sounding more and more deranged. “Listen, mate, why don’t we go get you some water and you can sit down. Come, let’s go find Framerica…”

Japan stepped out of reach of England’s beseeching hands. “Do you love France or America?”

England rolled his eyes, blushing furiously. “L-Love?! I don’t love—”

"Please, humor me," Japan said, voice emotionless once again. "France, or America?"

England opened his mouth to scoff, but he considered the question. It was like a thousand different parts of him wanted both nations—part of him _hated_ the perverted Frenchman, while the other considered America a son to him.

Something flickered. Both of those opinions seemed… _Wrong_ , somehow. There was a thought missing between England’s past relationship with these nations and his current opinions. They seemed too broad, too simple for England’s history with them.

England’s head throbbed.

"Japan… We should get back to France… No, America?" England rubbed his forehead. "I… Is it France or America? I…"

The other island nation’s face twitched. “You have been blushing like me. You are saying ‘bloody’ and ‘git’ more in the past few weeks than I have heard you say in the entirety of my friendship with you. Your clothes…”

The two of them looked down at their form fitting outfits; England suddenly— _desperately_ — wanted to slip into a sweater vest.

"The others…" England reached up to rub his temples.

"Similar things. Veneziano has lost twenty IQ points, Spain has lost all his backbone when dealing with Romano, Germany… His accent…" Japan reached up to touch his lips, mouth twitching into a frown.

England took a step back. He sat down cradled his head in his hands. “The others,” he whispered, “We have to tell them.”

"No. Most of the others barely listen. You have been the only person I could get away from their person." Japan nudged Greece, eyes flicking down towards the sleeping nation. "Germany with Veneziano, Spain and Romano… You can probably guess the rest."

England looked up at Japan. “How did you figure this out?”

Japan closed his eyes, head turning slightly away from England. His whole body tensed, and his head ducked. The sitting nation wanted to say something, but he didn’t know what.

"Greece—when he is awake— does not waste a lot of time with ‘dating.’ He came over to pet my cats and… I wanted to talk some sense into someone before they were… When their person… It did not make _sense_.” Japan looked back at England. “You were blushing more than the others.”

England gritted his teeth. “What should we do?”  


Japan sat down across from England. “I do not know. I was… Beginning to think that _I_ was the crazy one.” 


End file.
